


Sex Solves __thing

by Kiyuomi



Series: JJBek Week 2017 [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Chapter 2 is not a real chapter, Concerning Isabella, Crying, Cyber Bullying, Fingering, Following Tags are Triggers, Implied/Referenced Cheating, JJBekWeek 2017, M/M, Online Harassment, Oral Sex, Panic Attack, Past Relationship(s), Porn With Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Theres equal parts plot, blowjob, dub-con, its for all your English majors out there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 15:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11854149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyuomi/pseuds/Kiyuomi
Summary: JJBek week day 1: Social Media“Otabek deserved bronze #JusticeforOtabae”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning!  
> This is a fic containing:  
> \- dubious consent  
> \- dangerous perceptions  
> \- sex as a solution to a problem  
> \- anxiety  
> \- the result of cyber harassment  
> \- past relationships rearing its head
> 
> If you are interested in the workings of this fic as a study of society and fandom, please check out the notes!

                Horny.

                There are little other words to describe their states. Sloppily undressed, buttons popped and clothing pulled in their hurry. Jackets discarded at the door, hanging limply from the nearest chair. Shoes were kicked off- the left shoe upside down, and the sole medal hanging over head had been thrown off, noisily clattering against the table side until it hit the carpet. Decorative pillows litter onto the floor, blankets rumpled under their pressing weight, legs meeting legs and hands meeting body, lips melting away whatever it can touch.

                Otabek feels JJ tug at his nipple, and he sighs, feeling his dick twitch at the sensation.

                Horny.

                They did this, sometimes, when they were young and unknowing and too faithful to the senior skaters. When JJ had said his bodyguards would come running, that he’d sue, that he’d rip apart whatever reputation they could scrap together. Otabek had thanked him every time, with his hands, his lips, his body.

                They were easily excited, easily swayed. But time passed and relationships strain under the pressure, and Otabek found that the number listed under JJ’s name was no longer in use. So the nights ended, and their separate days began.

                It is Otabek who asks for his number first, this time.

                It is JJ who invites him over.

                It is JJ who tells him Isabella is out with her friends, though Otabek finds it odd that the loving couple would separate on a night worth celebrating. It is JJ who tells him to relax on their way up, adjusting his shoulder strap every few floors, glancing at the numbers ticking up. It is JJ who kisses him first, door still ajar, open to anyone passing by to see. It is JJ who asks him what he wants.

                It is Otabek who strips first.

                Then they kiss, awkward after so long, curious to find what should be familiar. JJ had kissed the tips of his ears and Otabek had shivered, still sensitive there after so many years. Hardened fingers pressing into his neck, his shoulders, awaiting his gasps at the sensation of fingers pressing along the undersides of his arms. Finding the new- the way Otabek keens at lips biting below his ribs. Finding the old- the soft whine Otabek murmurs when impatient, when JJ had smiled upwards, tongue barely licking the head of his cock.

                They are silent except the soft hisses that escape through Otabek’s teeth, the few mewls that slither from the gaps between his fingers. He tries to stay silent but JJ is so warm, so kind like this, praising him. Telling him how amazing he is, how lovely he is, how gracious, how kind, how hard-working, what Otabek deserves. Whispers with lidded eyes and a tongue of poison, darting out to swipe at his balls and Otabek cannot help but react to that.

                The thing is, JJ never blew him when they were younger. It had always been Otabek on his knees, coaxing soft sighs and then hisses when JJ could not hold out anymore, little moans and twitches of his legs as he tried, tried to resist squeezing down onto Otabek’s head. It had always been him, lips red and pretty, a little line of drool and cum dripping down his chin, little splatters wetting his shirt. He had practiced with a banana once, as embarrassing as it was, just to feel JJ’s hips stutter against his face.

                JJ doesn’t take him into his throat, but the sight of the Canadian between his thighs is enough for Otabek to growl, shifting against the bedsheets and trying, failing, to not thrust down and choke the other.

                If Otabek closes his eyes, he can pretend they’re back in the locker room, snug together in the back changing closet. Their coach had walked in once, looking for some rat another student had complained about. There wasn’t enough room for two energetic teenagers in that closet, and Otabek still remembers the moment JJ had ghosted his lips, biting down on his shoulder unexpectedly. He remembers covering his mouth, hoping that the coach wouldn’t find anything suspicious, the blood traveling downward draining his mind of sense. Mindless rutting against JJ’s thigh, gasping and when JJ had taken mercy, letting Otabek hump him, kissed him so deeply their coach hadn’t heard a single moan escape his throat.

                JJ had called him a pervert for cumming onto his pants, and Otabek had failed to hide the way the accusation shot straight into his dick.

                The JJ now can’t say such cruel things, not with Otabek rocking against his face.

                Instead, Otabek makes up for the silence. The walls are, should be, soundproof and he’s not afraid to paw at JJ’s hair, combing his fingers upwards. He moans in the empty air, hips stuttering every time JJ takes him another centimeter closer, more of that encasing warmth. Then JJ’s ducking down, licking a strip along his balls and Otabek can’t help the buck of his hips, squirming.

                They were never quiet, not really. JJ got quieter in bed, but he was so naturally loud that it mattered little. Otabek had only grown louder in time, as JJ learned more of what made him weak. His ears, his chest, the sides of his ribs. The line along his stomach, even that small spot on his knees. He felt played, so thoroughly taken by JJ as though practiced, perfected. It was impossible to be quiet under such willing hands.

When Otabek comes into JJ’s mouth, his shout is silent.

                It is easy to collapse onto the ruffled bedspread, wipe the sweat onto the blankets. Otabek feels hot, overheated, floating in a familiar warmth. When the room fades back into view, the light of the city glittering through the balcony doors, dim warmth of the bedside lamp, the salty smell of sex permeating the air; Otabek feels his mouth moving.

                “Thanks.”

                JJ freezes from the edge of the bed, hand still wiping the remains of Otabek’s cum from his lips. His eyes drill into Otabek, unmoving, unimpressed, a single eyebrow raising as the word settles into Otabek’s mind.

                “Uh, for blowing me.” Clarification. The red that creeps up Otabek’s neck is nowhere near aroused. Embarrassment. Otabek finds himself grimacing, the heat radiating from his form dulling as the sweat on his skin settles into a chilling touch in the hotel room, high up in the air in the midst of winter. He doesn’t remember being so awkward in bed.

                Though, they never made it to the bed back then.

                JJ looks him a moment longer, and then he’s laughing, a low little titter. The heat circling Otabek’s cheek worsens, though this time it might be arousal with embarrassment.

                “You’re welcome?” JJ’s laughter is more a bark, sharp and meaningless. Otabek feels his blush worsen, that familiar sarcastic tone warming his stomach. God, he is awkward.

                He can’t even remember if JJ had ever been anything less than perfect.

                “Did you, um,” it’s easier to gesture, waving at his deflated dick, “come?” Otabek hasn’t stuttered like this in any of his past relationships. JJ had taught him ways to disguise embarrassment, uncertainty, regret. The right way to pause to create a dramatic effort, the angle he should maintain to remain mysterious, how to breathe to level his voice from nervous to composed. None of those words are coming to mind now, when his eyes meet the limp dick resting between JJ’s dry legs.

                “Oh.” No, he didn’t. That, well, it makes sense. It’s hard to get off on blowing someone else without any stimulation. But he’s limp, not even half-hard, and Otabek feels the red ebb back to embarrassment, shame crowding his face. At the very least, he should offer. “Can I jerk you off?”

                JJ cocks his head, eyes drifting lazily over Otabek’s form. It’s an unfamiliar gaze, openly calculating, judging, and Otabek swallows when it glances over his dick. His hair is messy, tangled from Otabek’s rough handling and even with his wiping, there remains a few droplets of cum on his cheeks. A tongue pokes out from his lips, swiping along the bottom, and Otabek is so vividly reminded of the first time they had gone further than hand jobs, the first time Otabek had shown JJ porn, the way JJ had pushed away, unwanting, unwilling, the traitorous swipe of his lips. They had never gone farther than a blowjob.

                “You can put it in.” What?

                “Huh?”

                JJ rolls his eyes, already climbing onto the bed. His knees look red from the stiff carpet, small patterned dots turned into scrapes when Otabek had pushed against him. His dick swings between his thighs and Otabek reaches out to run his fingers over it, only to be stopped by JJ’s hand.

                “You can fuck me.” Odd. A combination of words Otabek cannot, would not, imagine from JJ. The latter did not even curse, on most days. But they are there, hanging in the air, and Otabek cannot help the interested twitch of his dick as the phrase rings in his head. He shakes his head.

                “You can’t, you’re a,” Virgin. They may not have talked much, not at all, in the past few years but Otabek isn’t so forgetful. JJ had pushed him away then, many times, every time when he had tried to broach the subject. No meant no, and even if JJ was interested his determination to follow his faith prevented Otabek from even scratching the surface. He doubts so much could change when JJ still opened every performance with a prayer.

                “It’s fine,” it’s not, even though JJ’s voice sounds so soft, convincing. There’s a finger touching him, a single nail drawing a line from the head of his dick down. Otabek swallows, easier to silent than to speak, lest his mouth say something treacherous.

                JJ’s grin shows tooth, and that’s exactly when Otabek comes to terms that nothing is going his way.

                JJ whistles when Otabek digs through his bag, finding condoms and lubricant in the side pocket. He already knows what it looks like—desperate, unfaithful, a little too willing, but JJ’s unopened bag will contain nothing more than the bare minimal. Otabek would know; he used to rifle through the other’s items to hide a love note or something sentimental, and there was never anything more than clothing and necessities. A single time he had found a pad, and he had never managed the courage to ask about it.

                JJ told him anyway, when the yellow wrapped packet was on the floor under his locker. His little sister had just started her period, and he was in charge of carrying her things.

                Otabek wonders if JJ still carries them.

                When Otabek turns around, tools in hand, JJ’s already on his knees, turned away. Elbows pressed to the bed, face hidden away into the blanket. Otabek swallows, knowing that he’s aroused, knowing that pose is easier from his own experience, but he can’t help the little disappointment at not seeing JJ’s face.

                The first time Otabek sucked him off, he came just from the way JJ’s voice rang.

                “I’m going to prep you first.” Otabek whispers. JJ doesn’t move from his position, though Otabek shifts his left leg a bit farther. It’s a little weird, arousing, to see someone else’s ass like this, bare. Even though Otabek had met other people, they were either a quick fuck behind the club curtains or never made it to the bed at all.

                Otabek swallows, coating a finger in an ample amount of lubricant. If he’s going to do this right, and by gosh he wants to, he’ll have to take it careful and slow. Better more caution than less. He brings one hand up to steady JJ, the other one just hovering over his hole. It’s small, probably never touched, maybe not even cleaned for this. Otabek is suddenly sorely tempted to take a lick.

                JJ would probably kick him in the face for even trying, so he resists.

                “Are you going to start?” JJ’s voice is a tremble against the mattress. It’s jarringly soft, and Otabek tenses, fingers digging into JJ’s hip. The Canadian shakes at that, shifting his head to look and Otabek could swear that he still can’t see his face.

                “I’m starting now,” Otabek murmurs, bringing his hand down again. He’s nervous now, hands shaking, because JJ is still down with his head on the side, waiting, and every ticking second that passes doesn’t steel Otabek anymore than the one before it. If he’s being completely honest, JJ has too good an ass to be up like this, and Otabek would rather it be over his lap, over his head, somewhere he can see it and JJ too.

                JJ shifts in the sheets, one hand coming up to comb over his hair, and Otabek finally moves.

                The first time he did this, it was months after leaving Canada. Otabek hadn’t known, hadn’t cared for, anal sex before then. It just never came up, and JJ had so vehemently denied any attempts at it that Otabek had just given up on the idea altogether. It wasn’t until he returned to Kazakhstan, meeting his old coach’s new students, getting an offer to join them in an “additional” training session, that the idea was brought up to him again.

                Otabek’s not proud to admit he did it while staring at himself in the mirror, but he had to do what he had to do.

                JJ tenses up the moment he actually gets his finger in up to his second knuckle.

                “JJ, you need to relax.” It’s not that Otabek doesn’t understand, bringing a hand to rub at the dip of the other’s back. The first time he had tried insertion, he could barely fit in a finger, and didn’t try it again until a good month of research later. Now on the hotel room bed, he’s suddenly grateful for the inflood of information resurfacing in his mind.

                When JJ stiffens at his touch, shoulders jerking, all Otabek can remember is the first person who had asked to fuck his thighs. The sound of a distorted voice quiet under club music, Otabek’s own remix, bouncing in the bathroom. The man, woman, something or someone, had laughed in his ear. He hadn’t laughed back.

                Then there had been a dick sliding between his jeans.

                And his finger slides in.

                JJ’s grip on him loosens. His hips fall, legs closing back in. But his shoulders are tight, tense, even as Otabek moves around. The breaths he takes in are harsh, shaky, and Otabek remembers the way he held in his noises, stuffed fingers in his mouth and choked on them, remembers sucking off JJ and listening to the hiccup he warbled when he pulled off and licked along the slit at his head.

                JJ shivers and Otabek swallows.

                Then he’s lubing up a second finger. The lubricant feels thick, sticky and Otabek squeezes two fingers together to see it mush. He slides one hand, firm, to steady JJ again as he tries to slide them in.

                It’s easier this time. Otabek sighs, hears his breath echo, and scissors his fingers.

                The lubricant makes a squelching noise with every movement of his hand, and he twists his wrist. JJ is more than tight—he’s untouched, squeezing down on Otabek’s fingers, still except for the quiver under his hands. Otabek crooks his fingers just to see him jolt, something ragged and heavy heaving from his lungs, and then he’s back again.

                They never made it to the bed, but they tried, once. When they were tired and sweaty and greasy, full on cheap fast food and laughing about nothing, shining like stars, a swirl of emotions and excitement and then they had been back, words fading to silence. They didn’t kiss much then, not as often as they touched, but JJ had kissed him then. Had kissed him without tongue, just a press of lips against lips, hands coming up to curl at his hair. It had been odd, and Otabek had pulled away first, determined to get on his knees.

                JJ had cum over his face, gasping and louder than they had ever been at the rink, face flushed and Otabek had kissed his balls, his thighs, licked up every last inch of sticky skin. JJ had jerked him off, letting his world splash into white and when they were done they were too tired to separate.

                JJ makes a stilted noise when Otabek slides his fingers in again, faster. The lube is too much, slick and slipping out of his hole. Otabek drags his fingers over the right side of his ass to see the streaks and sees JJ’s hands tighten on the blanket. His arms shake, every movement jostling the messy underside of his hair and Otabek can see hugging him from the back. Can see kissing him on the cheek, can see the way his head shakes when he laughs.

                JJ had stopped kissing him then, since that day. Stopped kissing him unless he asked, stopped jerking him off in the locker room, waited until Otabek said something first. Kissed him with tongue and went straight to sex, and then they didn’t kiss at all and Otabek forgot to ask. Forgot to do anything but take JJ into his mouth and think about the pretty moans, his pretty sighs, and the pretty way his shoulders would shake from the back when he’d start to cry.

                Fuck.

                He can’t do this.

                “Are you scared of me?” Otabek hisses. It’s incredulous, ridiculous, and that’s probably exactly what it takes for JJ to finally turn his way. It’s suddenly too dark all at once, only the desk lamp providing any light and Otabek can’t really see JJ’s face, can’t really tell when he’s squared his jaw and angled his elbow just enough that he can’t make anything out and that’s really all Otabek needs to know.

                It was JJ who taught him how to fake a smile.

                “No. Why’d you stop? Tired already?” Taunting, stubborn. Otabek wants to rub at his face but his fingers are still coated in lube, still warm from being in JJ, and he groans all at once at his arousal even now. Because JJ is like this.

                “Seriously? I’m in this bed, right now.” JJ talks too much. He talks too loud. His voice echoes off the wall and that’s fantastic in concerts but not so much when they’re trying to have quiet sex but he’s never been good at being quiet.

                “And you’re here, with condoms in your bag.” Sharp and fierce and horrible, like they’re back in Canada, back at being fidgety teenagers who got horny way too often and didn’t know how to deal with it. Like they’re stupid, like Otabek’s stupid, stupid and silly and can’t keep it in his pants and how it should disgust JJ.

                “You want this.”

                And the thing is, Otabek does.

                He wants to run his hands over JJ. Wants to take him into his mouth, down to his throat, choke when JJ is seconds from cumming and making pretty sighs like an angel and jerks, wild, fucking his lips. Otabek wants to spread JJ over his head, have that pretty ass on his face and lick at it. Wants to fuck him or be fucked, either or, so long as he can have JJ in his hands, feel the way his body shakes when he’s trying to hold back and see his expression when it just crumbles into pleasure.

                “You don’t,” Otabek sighs. He wonders if this counts as blue-balling himself. JJ doesn’t freeze at the accusation, but he’s still, just breathing in place. Otabek looks at him, just swallows and thinks. “You don’t want this.”

                “I do.” Liar. A wave of exhaustion washes over him, and Otabek just takes in a slow breath. No, that’s not right. JJ wants something, certainly, there’s no other reason that he would invite Otabek into his room. But he didn’t want this.

                Otabek doesn’t know what he wants. He’s not a, not a

                “I’m not a mind reader. JJ, why did you invite me here?”

                It’s as though JJ’s been shocked, electrocuted. Suddenly he’s up, furious, nude with his clothing strewn over the carpet and Otabek wonders if he’s going to be thrown out naked. JJ’s steps are heavy, uncaring, until he stops by the desk. Stops and bends down and then he’s throwing something at Otabek.

                It’s instinct that catches it before it smacks him in the face. Otabek runs his fingers over the familiar weight, and the long tail behind it that scratches his skin when he pulls taut. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that JJ’s thrown his bronze medal at him.

                “You came to throw your medal at me?” Sarcasm isn’t the best weapon for Otabek to use, but it makes JJ bristle and that’s the most readable thing he’s done since they’ve entered his room. It’s as though Otabek had stepped into another world where silence with JJ is good, and his mind spins at how they managed to last so long without Otabek making a comment earlier.

                His head hurts.

                “No.” Bitter, poison, and Otabek’s so certain that JJ’s making that face again, running his tongue along the bottom of his lip. “I’m giving to you. Because,” Otabek’s frowning, fingers tightening enough for his knuckles to turn white and JJ just talks like this is a sane train of thought, “you deserved it.”

                JJ throws something else at him, and Otabek is sorely tempted to let it hit him in the face because if it hurts he would at least know that he’s dreaming. But instinct proves itself again and his fingers catch what is certainly JJ’s phone, open and lit and Otabek can see it’s searching a long stream of words. It’s too bright in the dark room and he squints until the words realign when he sees it.

                _“I hope JJ breaks his legs #JusticeforOtabae#JJLeroy”_

What the fuck?

                JJ doesn’t twitch despite the onslaught of incredulous looks Otabek sends his way, and eventually he returns to the awfully bright screen. Balancing the medal on his elbow, he brings his other hand to slide down the search. It’s more morbid curiosity than anything, and Otabek feels immense regret building with every pull he sees.

                _“WTF he fucked up his SP how did he medal??? #JusticeforOtabae#Cheat”_

                _“Reminder that sex >skill @ GPF Finals #JusticeforOtabae#FightTheJJGirls#Otabek”_

                The posts, Otabek realizes, are fresh. And many. The tag is full of posts in a similar vein, all outrageous and plenty without proper grammar or spelling, and mostly cursing. The ones that suggest suicide don’t even get read, and the third time Otabek sees something even remotely suggesting sex he contemplates blocking the tag, except this isn’t his phone. The majority of the posts are trash, honestly, encouraging self-harm and prostitution and full of people that he’s fairly certain don’t know how judging works, and he can ignore them. Otabek can ignore those posts because he gets them too—gets people calling him useless and worthless because he can’t jump as high, isn’t flexible enough, isn’t charming enough, but they’re usually worse at English than he and at least Otabek knows that he’s better than these people.

                But then there are the people who don’t say anything horrid, and they’re the worst of all.

                _“Otabek deserved bronze #JusticeforOtabae”_

                That’s enough scrolling. Otabek clicks the power button and the light dies out, letting the room fall back into the lamp’s dim glow. JJ’s still there by the table, back straight against the desk, arms and legs crossed. He’s irritable, mouth pulled in a frown and Otabek feels the overwhelming need to kiss it off his face.

                It would probably piss JJ off. That’s really only more motivation to do it.

                JJ tenses the moment Otabek starts walking over, squaring his shoulder and his jaw and Otabek’s reminded of when they were younger, when JJ had looked him in the eye, upset, angry, his knee red from where they had crashed in the rink and Otabek had only looked at his cut lip and wanted to lick off the drop of blood beading at the line.

                Otabek barely gets his lip onto JJ when he’s shoved off.

                “Get off! Fuck, Ota—” JJ’s strong, stronger, probably, Otabek hasn’t been around him enough to tell but they’re tired now, tired and exhausted and JJ is so much more drained than he. It’s easier this time to kiss him, bite at his bottom lip and slip in his tongue when JJ opens his mouth in a gasp of pain. Easier to hold JJ’s hands down, hard, against the desk and just kiss, eyes open when JJ’s slides shut, wrinkled, unhappy, unpleased and Otabek pulls back.

                JJ looks like he’s about to hit him.

                “You said you wanted this.” This time, JJ does freeze. He’s taller than Otabek still, just like back then when Otabek could slide down until his head rested onto JJ’s shoulders. But now, breathing heavy, body shaking, Otabek’s fairly certain he’s closer to collapsing than getting violent. The same thought must pass through JJ’s mind because his smoldering glare quells until he’s just staring, blank, taking in slow breaths. Blinks and keeps his eyes shut just long enough.

                “You can still fuck me.” Otabek considers the repercussions of hitting JJ. It’s like they’ve never grown, like all those years apart didn’t teach them a thing and they’re just being stupid children again, touching and playing and never considering what they were doing to each other. Never realizing the damage that they were doing to their relationship.

                If sex alone can define a relationship.

                “And I can’t kiss you?” JJ frowns again, features turning vicious and Otabek sighs. “JJ, I’m tired. You’re tired. If you don’t want me here, then I’m just going to leave.” He lets go of JJ’s hands and the Canadian doesn’t move, doesn’t do anything besides stare blankly at some point behind his face. Looking and not at all. “Look, let me just,” pick up his clothes. Slide his boxers on and rescue his shirt, stuffing it into his bag. The lube and condoms are still somewhere tangled up in the blankets, and he doesn’t have the energy to search. “go. Okay? I don’t want to,” do anything JJ doesn’t want, but he’s already done that, already touched him and he should have realized earlier but it’s a little too late now, isn’t it, “do anything more. I’m,” the bronze medal hits the table with a noisy clunk. JJ’s jaw is still squared and Otabek looks away. “Sorry.”

                Otabek takes a step away and it’s like the bubble has popped. His arousal is deflating and with it his mind clears, and the emotions come swirling in. Guilt, mainly, for letting their relationship get to this point and for pushing, for not realizing but anger, anger too, at himself for not noticing anything sooner and at JJ for never saying a thing and at those people, those so-called fans for doing this but more than anything he’s disappointed at himself, because all these people were doing it for him, writing in his name, putting him on a pedestal he doesn’t belong in and hurting others to force him there.

                Otabek places a hand on the door handle, cold to his fingers, and wonders how they arrived to this point.

                Wonders if he could have done anything sooner to save it.

                Wonders if there’s anything left to save.

                He twists the knob open and the yellow light from the hallway spills in. He’s still mostly naked, and Otabek just hopes he won’t be arrested for public indecency. If a hotel hallway counts as public. He wouldn’t know; Otabek’s never made a hobby of walking mostly naked.

                Never too late to start, he supposes.

                “Otabek.”

                He should ignore that. It’s been a bad night. It’s a late night, and he should be asleep. That or outside clubbing, mixing music and alcohol and breathing in some stranger’s cigarette. Maybe Yuri could be convinced to join him in a nightly stroll. Otabek doubts it.

                “Otabek.”

                He opens the door a little wider, just wide enough to mirror when JJ had pulled him in, kissed him in the entryway when anyone walking by could see. They weren’t drunk, weren’t drugged, weren’t floating in their headspace and unknowing and JJ had kissed him first.

                JJ had kissed him first.

                “Ota—” Otabek closes the door.

                JJ falls silent. This is a horrible decision and Otabek’s just barely made it. He’s still at the door, sports bag swung over his shoulder, medal returned, somewhat clothed. He should walk away now, before they do anymore damage to each other.

                In the silence of the room, he can hear JJ breathe. Can hear the shallow inhales of air, the way they stutter every few breaths. Knows that JJ’s trying to swallow and breathe through his nose but they’re too clogged up, and it makes a little noise. There’s a creak against the ground where JJ’s shifting his weight. He’s wiping at his face.

                Otabek’s never been able to walk away when someone’s about to cry.

                His sports bag hits the ground with a thud.

                “I’ll get you a tissue.” JJ snorts, distorted and horrid and when he speaks Otabek wonders how he can possibly fool anyone with that voice.

                “I don’t need one.” Bull; they both know it. Otabek walks past him into the bathroom anyway, wrapping his hand with two layer of tissue before giving up and just pulling the entire roll off. He strongly considers clicking open the overhead light so he can actually see JJ’s face without guessing, but he’s cornered JJ enough as it is that anymore risks him getting tossed out the window.

                “You’re crying,” Otabek points out and JJ waves the thought away as though offensive. Tissues win out against pride and he does take the toilet paper roll from Otabek’s hand, ripping off two pieces to wipe at his face.

                “I’m recovering from a panic attack,” JJ corrects and Otabek suddenly hates how familiar this is. How JJ had a tendency to run over his issues like they didn’t concern him, like political correctness mattered more than his actual feelings. Like being polite to a stranger’s face was more important than the face that he was dying behind the smile. Like Otabek helping push him into a panic attack doesn’t matter at all.

                Otabek tries to keep his face impassive, most of the time. At least that way, he doesn’t have to lie to anyone that he’s happy.

                “So much better than crying. You are truly impressing me with your masculinity.” That earns him a grin from JJ, just enough of a twitch of muscle under the lamp light and Otabek feels the oxygen in his lungs empty. JJ rips another tissue to dot at his nose, and he balls it up before throwing it into the trash. It misses, and neither make a move to pick it up.

                JJ sighs through one nostril. The crying is slowing.

                “So,” Otabek knows they should talk about this. Figure something out before reality settles back in, busy schedules pulling them apart again until Otabek’s calling a number that does not exist. Do something before the night is over and try to actually do something useful to salvage their relationship. JJ’s exhale comes out stuffy. “You got better at blowjobs.”

                JJ’s lips pull back into a grin again, and the sound of his fist punching Otabek’s shoulder is worse than the pain.

                “Fuck you.” Cursing. Still anxious, then. “You wished I blew you.” Otabek did. But then JJ would never be able to rip another one into him about how red his knees got on the tile, about how people would react to them, about how much media would accuse him of sexually harassing JJ instead of the other way around. About how JJ was the king, born with a crown on his hand, and how lucky Otabek got to be to leave a hickey on his inner thighs.

                Otabek’s getting aroused again. JJ makes a noncommittal hum. He noticed.

                Otabek gestures to his boner. JJ snorts, wiping at his cheeks with his fingers. He rips out another tissue to blow into. When he speaks, his voice comes out squeaky.

                “Altin, if you make me suck you off after giving me anxiety, I am starting a justice for JJ tag.” Too soon. Otabek grimaces. He’s also fairly certain he’s not the sole reason for JJ having anxiety as a whole. JJ wipes at his cheek with another piece of paper, teared unevenly at the end.

                It’s easier to just stay silent. Otabek leaves JJ to open the window, the cold night air leaking into the room. It smells like sweat and sex and the heavy linger of tears, and Otabek would rather the city air enter. The city smells of smoke and perfume, fast food and grilled meat from the street fair and Otabek is vaguely aware that he’s hungry.

                JJ’s tissue hits the trash can this time. Otabek claps.

                He sits on JJ’s bed. It’s more than big enough to accommodate four people—Otabek has the same bed in his room. The blankets are still tousled and he touches a mildly wet spot on the mattress. The lubricant on his fingers are still sticky. He wipes them on his leg, waiting.

                JJ joins him on the other side.

                “Are we going to talk tonight?”

                “No.” Well, at least he’s honest. Otabek snorts, rolling his eyes. JJ gives him a shaky grin, throwing the toilet paper roll at him. Otabek throws it back, fairly certain that JJ still needs it. True enough, JJ takes in two more breaths before ripping out another piece.

                “Should I leave?” It’s harder to get the words out uninterested, but he doesn’t want to burden JJ anymore than he has to. Otabek is also fairly certain being in the same room as JJ right now isn’t the best thing for either of them.

                “No.” Otabek is also certain that he doesn’t really have the courage to turn down JJ when he’s needed.

                Still, the word warms him in their slowly cooling room. He should close the window soon.

                JJ doesn’t talk anymore, just sniffling and wiping at his face. He always got quiet like this; silent and nervous when the anxiety just overcame him. One moment he was fine with cameras, standing in the spotlight and lapping up interviews like water and another he was hugging Otabek in the changing room, whispering French that Otabek didn’t know and letting himself be comforted. They never slept together after sex, only touching after practice, but sometimes when JJ quieted down like this Otabek would think about bringing him to bed and just sleeping.

                It’s been years, but better late than never, right?

                Otabek lies down and misses the pillow by at least five centimeters. He frowns, getting back up and kicking away the comforter so he can actually lay down. JJ’s watching him, his eyes red and puffy and his cheeks pale, still recovering, and Otabek lets him stare. Gets his hand up until the lamp and turns it off. Let the room bask in the city lights.

                JJ takes a few minutes, half an hour, hour, more, maybe, just sitting at the corner of the bed.

                Otabek dozes at least a few times, falling asleep to the sound of JJ’s breathing and the faint buzz of cars down below. He never manages to stay asleep, feeling hot and gross every time he resurfaces, probably needing a shower. Maybe his dick will hurt tomorrow. He still wants to know if this counts as blue balling.

                Eventually, Otabek opens his eyes to the sound of the shower running. The bathroom lights peek through the bottom of the door and Otabek groans, closing his eyes again. He doesn’t quite manage to fade away when JJ opens the door, and he springs up. There’s a crack in his back that resounds in the room and JJ chuckles.

                “Go shower, you stink.” Otabek laughs. His voice is hoarse and sleepy and he yawns thrice between the bed to the bathroom. The mirrors are fogged up by the shower but otherwise it’s the same as his room. JJ runs his water a smidge too hot and Otabek lets it run a moment before he heads in.

                There’s no toothbrush for him, but he gargles with the mouthwash. He’s done grosser things before bed.

                JJ is, surprisingly, actually under the blanket when Otabek emerges from the bathroom. The door creaks when he tries to close it. Otabek winces but JJ doesn’t move, and he sighs. He’s naked, worn boxers left on the floor, and too tired to go back to find a new one. JJ’s left half the bed open, blanket untucked and pillow set straight.

                Now that Otabek’s close enough, he can tell that JJ’s watching him. He smiles and JJ rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling back. It’s late, and they’re tired, and there’s too much in the air to talk about.

                Otabek slides into bed. It’s too big to feel cramped with just two people, but sleeping with JJ makes him feel strangely full. As though there’s just enough to fill him up.

                “Night,” he murmurs. The word feels heavy on his lip. He’s sleepy.

                “Good night.” JJ sounds sleepy. Otabek sighs, feels his shoulders droop, feels himself relax onto the bed. They can talk tomorrow. They can do something tomorrow.

                He’s nearly asleep when JJ speaks again.

                “Thanks.” It’s quiet and soft, more an admission to himself than to Otabek. Otabek considers letting the word hang in the air, just for JJ’s privacy. Then he thinks better of it.

                “For the blowjob.” JJ laughs at that, and Otabek grunts. But he’s smiling, even as JJ shoves his shoulder.

                It’s not a perfect ending, but it’s good enough for them.


	2. Notes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I am not an English major so this is not properly formatted. These notes detail what thought process went into certain scenes, what was meant to be conveyed, and different interpretations during different parts and moods. I do suggest re-reading the fic one time after digesting these notes because it should help readers better understand the “morals” of the story. However, these notes are purely additional content and do not affect the story itself in any manner.
> 
> These notes follow the same warnings as the fic. Please make sure to avoid any sections that seem like a trigger.

 

“Sex Solves __Thing”

                The title was actually picked at the end of writing. The idea is that the blank space can be filled in with a variety of responses to drastically change the way the fanfiction is viewed. Because of the major role perspective/hindsight bias plays in how the story played out, I wanted a title that reflected what someone might think starting the story, then their thoughts at the middle and finally at the end.

                Sex Solves Everything

                This interpretation applies largely coming into the fanfiction. Sex is generally treated as an “end game” moment for most relationships—many people in literature use sex to close out or prove a relationship as real. Fanfiction even more so, where many people will fade out of a sex scene/imply sex between characters. Sex is an incredibly important part of relationships in popular culture, so a reader coming into this story is immediately met with two people who seem very comfortable with sex. From Otabek’s POV, everything is done consensually and smoothly, so it really does come off as a scene where sex is just a natural result of a romantic relationship.

                Sex Solves Nothing

                This is actually the intended result while writing the story. The goal was to explore sex as a hindrance to a relationship _because_ of the fact that it was being treated as a goal, rather than prioritizing the relationship itself. In the original draft of the story, Otabek was supposed to not connect the dots until he was inside JJ, and by then they would have slipped too far back into old habits that it would be incredibly difficult to make change (a bad end). This was changed when Otabek has the memory of someone doing intercrucial with him in a club, right when his finger enters JJ. The parallel between Otabek during the present scene and the man in the club is jarring, and a reminder that sex for the sake of sex was doing nothing to help preserve his and JJ’s relationship. During that moment, there was nothing to differentiate JJ from all the other people who wanted to have sex with Otabek.

                Sex Solves Something(s)

                The most realistic conclusion, and the one that arises from Otabek choosing the good end. Sex does do good in this story by providing Otabek and JJ a starting point to communicate from. We barely see them interact in the series despite supposedly having been rink mates—there’s an implication of a falling out and I wanted to portray the tension of a past relationship trying to rebuild itself. Sex does not actually resolve anything in their relationship in this story, as it is the main hindrance, but it solves the problem of them never trying to repair their relationship in the first place. With something so prevalent in society, there is little way to just ignore sex for either JJ or Otabek.

 

Trust

                A major theme in this story is trust, and the abuse of it. The main ways trust is expressed in this fanfiction is Otabek’s trust of himself and their past relationship, Otabek’s trust in JJ, JJ’s trust in Otabek and the reader’s trust of Otabek.

                Otabek’s Trust in Otabek

                Though most people would like to think they have a pretty good memory, it’s actually one of the easiest things to distort. Under caffeine, alcohol, and drug influence our interpretations of ordinary events can change dramatically, and we may end up remembering the distorted vision of an event rather than the one we actually experienced. In Otabek’s case, his trust is distorted by nostalgia, which was a major theme in this storyline.

                For the first half of the story (during sex), a good third to half of the interaction between Otabek and JJ is smoothed over by Otabek’s nostalgia. Their present interactions are distorted by his past feelings, and as a result, he fails to catch many of the warning signs until they’re well underway. Otabek points out many odd things from the beginning, from his mention of Isabella not being present on such an important night to JJ’s odd behavior sexually. In fact, the entire sequence of JJ giving Otabek a blowjob is largely smoothed over by Otabek’s reminiscing of what he and JJ used to do while rink mates. It should come off as odd that Otabek is spending so much time thinking about the past, and in such a romanticized way, while having the very person he’s thinking of there with him in the present.

                It is so easy to get caught up in one’s own narrative that it may be hard to see the damage done to others because of it. Even during the tense scene when Otabek is seeing the posts, he still reverts back to sexuality and kissing JJ as an answer. While there are many other ways to broach the tense mood between them, Otabek’s trust in their past relationship prevails. His nostalgia and clinginess to the past (based off him still remembering Yuri years later) tells a lot about how difficult it will be for them to fix the relationship on Otabek’s side.

                Otabek’s Trust in JJ

                Otabek, like most sexual partners, has trust in JJ to communicate his feelings when he doesn’t want something during sex. However, most cases in sexual assault are from people who are friends or families of the assaulted, and their complaints are usually smoothed over. In this story, Otabek would stop if JJ would explicitly say “no”. However, because much of JJ’s communication is purposefully cut off (blowjob, doggy style) during sex, Otabek should instead rely on reading JJ’s body language to determine consent. Again, due to Otabek’s distorted view on the present, much of what should come off as a warning sign gets smoothed over.

                Most of Otabek’s trust in JJ actually comes out at the moment when he considers leaving. Until and after that point, the majority of the power is actually in JJ’s hand. He can call off the sex whenever, can kick Otabek out of his room, etc. When Otabek chooses to leave, it is the “safest” option, meaning that they can simply forget about the night and go back to their prior relationship. Instead of leaving, Otabek stays, showing his faith in the other. This is the only point in the story where it is explicitly clear that Otabek is the one in charge.

                JJ’s Trust in Otabek

                Given that the fanfic is written largely from Otabek’s POV, we see very little of JJ and have to infer much from his body language. While JJ’s trust is more obvious in the latter half of the chapter, referring to when he allows Otabek to see him cry and eventually share a bed, his most trusting moments are actually in the beginning.

                JJ plays the non/dub-con member in the sex scene, where he verbally consents but his body language has a different story. JJ puts faith in Otabek to stop the sex scene, which he does eventually do, because JJ won’t. Otabek mentions many oddities in JJ’s behavior clashing with their routine habits during the sex scene, and offhandedly comments on how JJ had taught him before how to fake body language. The offhand comment is supposed to be the largest warning sign of the scene because JJ is presented as a person who is good at getting into role (in this case, acting as though the sex is routine) while actually behaving very oddly. Because JJ will not outright say “no”, he instead expresses it with his body, and puts trust in Otabek to call him out on it. It’s because of this that it’s only after Otabek accuses JJ of acting scared during sex that JJ starts actively talking.

                Though JJ is presented as a bit of a “victim” in Otabek’s eyes with the non/dub-con and online harassment scenes, he still harbors most of the power during the story. That isn’t to say Otabek doesn’t have a say—they only have sex because “Otabek stripped first”.

                Reader’s Trust in Otabek

                My personal favorite “twist” in Yuri on Ice is how every episode reveals more and more how unreliable Yuuri is as a narrator. He’s absolutely garbage, but I’ve always been intrigued in taking advantage of perspectives to show how easily a situation can be misjudged.  If you didn’t notice most of the dub/non-con elements until after the fingering scene begins (it is made more obvious after the line about JJ’s virginity), it is most likely because you trusted Otabek to be a reliable narrator.

                I mainly took advantage of this assumed trust by giving a lot of mixed signals and ambiguous moods. For example, just saying moan doesn’t give any context as to whether it is forced, in pain, in pleasure, tired, etc. Otabek and the reader will make the assumption that it is pleasure related simply because it is a sexual scene, whereas in the scene JJ’s noises are actually supposed to sound rather odd/stilted. Otabek’s reactions are actually very stiff and awkward towards the end of the blowjob, punctuated by the fact that he mentions cumming silently (contrasting their loud sex in the past). The reader has faith that Otabek would point out if the mood were strange or if he wasn’t feeling it, but Otabek is just a biased a person as any and as such, he smooths over a lot of the more negative aspects of the sex.

                If rereading the sex scene, I strongly encourage putting yourself as a neutral party to figure out how much of what Otabek’s saying is fitting the mood and how much is him pushing away from the present. It can be figured out!

 

Fandom and The Internet

                Cyber Bullying/Online Harassment played a major background role in this story. I took advantage of JJ and Otabek’s differences in social media (hah! The prompt) to show how one event can affect them so differently. JJ, who uses social media often, is immediately aware of the comments and takes them very seriously. Otabek, who is familiar with but doesn’t use social media often, recognizes hate but needs time to immerse himself into the issue.

                Though the internet can spread many great things, it can also lead to many issues. The quotes used in the #JusticeforOtabae tag were all taken from twitter/tumblr/youtube comments. The majority of this sentiment occurred right when episode 12 aired, where JJ was going from hated to loved and back all at once and Otabek was a newfound favorite due to the Otayuri ship kicking off very strong. While JJ is a very “strong” character, similar to a little devil trope, Otabek is a very subdued and blank slate. As a result, it was much easier to have strong feelings for/against JJ than Otabek, who (unfortunately, this still holds true in the fandom today) fit in very easily as a generic boyfriend for Yurio. I wanted to reflect the mood in the YOI fandom during episode 12 in the fic itself, which was a mix of somber, excitement, and anger.

                The interesting thing about the internet is how quickly people can latch to trending things. Otabek comments how recent the tag is (this story taking place right after GPF), yet it is so full of people. Their usage of social media and interaction with their fandom really separates Otabek and JJ in this story. JJ is heavily affected, and with a mixture of anxiety (and a recent panic attack during episode 11) and internet dependency (we see on his engagement post with Isabella very generic tags that indicate like-fishing), which leads to him acting in disastrous ways in the story. Otabek, conversely, does not hold the internet in very high regards, which is evident in how he easily dismisses posts that contain inflammatory or extreme language. Otabek in canon does not use social media often, but there is no reason why. In this story, it’s implied he keeps his distance simply because the users do not interest him, including haters. It’s because of this distance from media that Otabek can assess the situation and react in a more logical manner than JJ.

However, it is also because of this distance that Otabek did not prevent the situation to begin with. I wanted to show the effects of hate before showing the quotes to show how much perspective can alter a situation. Without the summary, one might not have any idea at all the direction the story will go beyond sex. The usage of hate being introduced at a point when the damage was already done is a criticism of people’s emphasis on both sex and the internet. If both mattered less, the entire issue could be resolved much easier.

                Regarding fandom, I wanted to reflect how real life celebrities react to falling out with their fans (or haters). Though it is rare a celebrity commits serious bodily harm or suicide from hate comments, it is not uncommon to see breakdowns, turns to alcohol/drug abuse, and a development of mental issues to deal with the hate. I didn’t have a chance to in this story, but I really wanted to portray “JJ” as different from Jean-Jacques, where one can handle the media and all that comes with it and the other being more subdued and down-to-earth. While Otabek’s comments of their past seem to largely clash with the sex scene, it does seem accurate when JJ is calming down and they are talking. The crying JJ is meant to be Jean-Jacques, who has not changed as much as his celebrity image has and is still very similar to the person Otabek intimately knew.

                The YOI fandom has poisonous and kind people in it just like every fandom. It is impossible to have a large group of fans without any bad apples, but it’s crucial to prevent those people from making the entire community toxic. At the moment, I think the YOI community is still a bit too quick to become defensive/angry about the show. I hope that it will mellow out more as time goes on and people can review the show from a more objective point of view.

 

Bonus Worldbuilding

                I didn’t have as much time to world build in this story because it’s really just a long scene with an Otabek narrative filter on top, but there are many small details that you may have missed about both characters! Here are some:

  * JJ is not getting one-sided hate without any love. The third post included #fighttheJJGirls. It’s implied in the anime that JJ is a rather popular competitor, with his fangirl group, the Flag Man™, and his career as a singer also garnering fans. JJ’s panic attack comes not from the internet posts but actually from general anxiety and stress, but the hate just pushed it.
  * Otabek is never revealed to be a virgin or not. Though it’s implied that he’s had many partners and had sexual encounters, he never explicitly says that he’s ever fucked anyone/been fucked. Because of how awkward he presents the idea of taking JJ’s virginity, it is implied that he is no longer a virgin.
  * There are many unhealthy sex-based relationships implied in the figure skating world. Otabek mentions in the beginning how their seniors would try to make him/JJ participate in oral sex, and he later mentions returning to Kazakhstan and basically being invited to an orgy. The intimacy between sex and sports implied in this story mirror real life stories of coaches and senior athletes getting sexual favors from newcomers.
  * There is a parallel between temperature and emotional openness in the story. After Otabek opens the window to let in the cool breeze, both JJ and Otabek are a lot more open about their intentions and emotions. Prior to that, even during the confrontation scene, both of them are rather closed off.
  * Otabek does not treasure sex. He mentions being aroused two times without any touching from himself or JJ after the sex scene but he doesn’t have any real intention to get himself off. Though he has JJ suck him off and fingers JJ, much of Otabek’s thoughts are about other people, or his relationship with JJ. Because of this, the details of both acts are obscured by his nostalgia.
  * Many of Otabek/JJ’s sexual preferences are implied here. Otabek enjoys seeing his partner’s face, nice butts, face sitting. He carries lube and condoms with him. JJ prefers being blown, praise kink, and control.
  * Otabek’s awkwardness is natural. His sexual encounters with other people don’t include him being awkward, but he mentions it during the first time he tried to finger himself and of course, at the end of the blowjob. The more emotionally invested he is in a scene the more awkward he gets.
  * Otabek and JJ are seen/treated by equals in the athletic community. This is implied by Otabek commenting on having the exact same room as JJ. Athletes of the same caliber will receive similar benefits by companies, hotels and the league they perform for, whereas the treatment between a junior and senior sport member can be drastically different.
  * JJ liked Otabek romantically when they were younger, and it’s flipped now. When Otabek pushed away JJ during the first time they almost made it to the bed, JJ took it as a rejection and then onwards only did what Otabek asked for. It is the reverse situation now where Otabek wants to revive their old relationship while JJ treated the matter more of something he had to do, than wanted to do.
  * Isabella is aware of some of the night’s events. It is rather ridiculous for the fiancé of an athlete to just drop them for a girl’s night out coincidentally when he has to meet with an ex over an issue media has blown up over. It becomes more obvious by the end because girl’s night isn’t a sleepover and it’s well into the morning with Otabek’s dozing off, but Isabella never returns to the room. Whether this is an open relationship is not confirmed (hence the cheating tag).



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus end note was written by my sister:
> 
> Continuation: And then they fucked and had problems  
> The end.  
> Bonus:  
> Otabek: like wow that was rly awkward I am an awkward person  
> JJ: it ok  
> Otabek: no that was not ok that was the opposite of ok  
> JJ: it ok  
> Otabek: what have I done why am I like this  
> Isabella: guise im home whats goin on in here I bought leftover lo mein  
> JJ: it ok  
> Otabek: oh no what am I going to do shes not supposed to be back for another ten million years what to do what to do

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed the fic, as crazy as it got. I'll be uploading another chapter tomorrow about notes while writing this. The second chapter is entirely unneeded to read/enjoy this fic, but a good supplement if you want to have a different view on the events that have occured.


End file.
